Red
by allycakes
Summary: Red. All he could see was red. Fic starting the night Clare told Eli about Asher. M for language.
1. Red

**Disclaimer: I do not own Degrassi.**

**This idea just came to me while watching the season 12 marathon... I don't know how long it will be.**

**Don't be mad at me. (/.\)**

**Reviews would kind of make my day. **

_Red._

All he could see was red.

He could only remember this angry once in his life. The night Julia died. But that was different, and he sure as hell didn't need to be thinking about that right now.

He did his best to walk quietly up the stairs of his house so he didn't wake his parents, but rage made his feet heavy. He tried, really he did, not to slam the door to his bedroom, but the loud bang and shaking of the framed and signed picture of Dead Hand on his wall let him know he had failed. He breathed heavily through his nose and leaned against the door, trying to regain control of his emotions. Finally, when his ragged intakes of air had slowed to something more similar to regular breathing, he shifted slowly to his bed and lied down.

He couldn't stomach the idea that someone had taken advantage of Clare like that. She was so sweet, so innocent. But something else was bothering him almost as much as the idea of Clare being hurt: the fact that she felt like she couldn't trust him. Like she couldn't come to him with all of her problems because she thought he would lose it and he felt like such a jackass because that's exactly what he felt like doing. She had been sexually harassed and the poor girl was still trying to protect _him._ He threw his hands over his face and groaned. He still couldn't figure out why the hell she was with him. Why would a girl like her want to be with someone as messed up as him? Someone she felt she needed to take care of even when she was the one who need help. He was fine. He was doing so much better and he knew that, but he also knew he would never be normal, and Clare deserved normal.

"Get your shit together, Eli," he muttered to himself.

His head was swimming. He reached over to his nightstand and grabbed the bottle of pills placed there. He dry swallowed one quickly and plopped back down against the pillows. He had done what he was supposed to do. He had taken his pills. He had ignored the urge to hunt to that son of a bitch Asher Shostak and rip his head off. He had been there for Clare. He had also punched Mike Dallas in the face, but that asshole was asking for it. Now all there was left to do was wait.

So, that's what he did. He waited.

He waited.

He waited some more, but he still felt angry. Sure, the edge was off, but his heart was still beating a little too fast and the word murder flashed in his mind more than a few times. His phone buzzed, breaking him from his trance and he smile in spite of himself when he read the name flashing across the screen.

"Fiona," he said coolly as he pressed the phone to his ear.

"I am going to kill you! Slowly!" Fiona paused and he knew she was looking around at the rambles of what had once been a birthday party set-up. "As soon as you come over tomorrow and clean this mess up." Eli winced and pressed further into the pillows. He did feel truly sorry for wrecking Fiona's loft, but he wasn't exactly thinking clearly when he had taken part in destroying it.

"I promise, first thing in the morning I'll help you and Imo," he swore, hoping to atone for his actions.

"Oh, no. We're not helping you. You threw the first punch, you started the fight, and now you get to clean it up."

He wanted to protest, but he knew arguing with Fiona Coyne would get him no where except further in to the hole he had dug himself into, so he simply sighed and agreed before bidding her goodnight. As soon as he sat his phone down it buzzed again. Clare.

_Eli, thank you so much for being there for me tonight. You have no idea how much that means to me. I love you and I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. Goodnight._

He quickly sent a text back and fell into a fitful sleep.

"Well, it sounds to me like it was just pure, unadulterated anger, Eli. I don't think you're having a break. Anyone would be angry finding out someone they loved went through that. I think you're fine, but if you have any more problems don't hesitate to call me." Eli breathed a sigh of relief at his therapist's words, though he wasn't totally convinced. He murmured his thanks before hanging up and getting dressed.

He couldn't shake the feeling from last night from his thoughts, and it was scaring him. He knew he had every right to be angry, but he was terrified of it turning into something more.

**Eh, it'll get better, promise. Let me know if you want me to continue. **

**Also, side note: I loved long-haired Eli, but I have to say I'm definitely digging the shorter hair even more. :3**


	2. Cleaning House

**Hi, I know I haven't updated this in forever. I am so sorry, but I work and go to college so it's hard to find down time. /:**

**Sidenote.. these tweets from the seniors are killing me inside. I don't want them to go. D': *cries***

**Here's chapter 2 of Red, I'm thinking maybe two or three more chapters tops. Hope you enjoy..**

He sighed and ran a hand over his neck nervously before lifting his fist to tap on the door. Before he could think better of it and leave the door swung open and Fiona looked him over, lips pursed and eyebrows raised.

"If it isn't Rocky Balboa," she sneered and slapped his chest with a pair of obnoxiously yellow cleaning gloves. Eli rolled his eyes and took them from her, sliding them on before stepping inside the apartment behind her. He looked around the mess of an apartment and shook his head. Somehow, in his anger induced stupor the previous night, the place hadn't looked half as bad. There were cliché red solo cups scattered across the floor and various snacks tossed on and trampled into the carpet. A table in the far corner was flipped over along with the sofa, and there was a suspicious stain directly in front of him. And that was just what he could see from the door. He sighed heavily and kicked the door closed behind him. It was going to be a long day.

Fiona, much too happily, brushed aside enough of the things from the counter and hopped on it, swinging her legs back and forward.

"You're seriously not going to help me?"

"Why help when I can supervise? Plus, I didn't start the fight that caused this huge mess," she pointed out and began eyeing her nails as if they were the most interesting things in the room.

"I didn't start anything!" Eli protested, throwing his hands in the air and feeling foolish when he saw the smile playing on Fiona's lips as she took in his dark dress paired with exaggerated movements and bright gloves. He rolled his eyes. "That _Neanderthal _came to Clare's party and started threatening her and insulting me. What was I supposed to do? If anything I would say that he started it."

Fiona tilted her head to the side, "Point taken, Goldsworthy, but I still want the apartment cleaned before Imogen gets here."

"Fine," he grumbled and trudged past her to grab a broom.

Three hours and a few arguments later and Eli held up the final disgusting thing he could find. He held a gym sock a safe distance from his body and wrinkled his nose.

"Gross," Fiona breathed.

"Who in the hell leaves a gym sock at a party?" He muttered to himself. His question was answered when the door swung open and Drew strode in, grinning widely when he saw what Eli was holding.

"Dude, I've been looking for that!" He grabbed the sock out of Eli's hand and patted him roughly on the back before disappearing into his bedroom. Fiona grimaced and then glanced at Eli hopefully.

"Any chance I could talk you into disinfecting the place before you head out?"

"No." Eli grumbled flatly.

"Are you okay?" She asked; her dark eyebrows were perched high on her forehead and her blue eyes shimmered with concern. Eli paused before nodding his head.

"Y-Yeah. I mean, no… but I will be," he declared with more confidence than he felt at the moment. Fiona knew in an instant that he was lying by the way he took his bottom lip between his teeth and chewed it anxiously.

"No, you're not. Come on, Eli." She said, motioning toward the couch. "Step into my office."

He shook his head, but followed reluctantly. He wasn't sure if talking to Fiona would help anything, but he needed to talk to someone and he certainly couldn't let Clare in on how he was feeling. He continued to gnaw on his lip as he sat down on the couch and ran his fingers through his hair.

"It's Clare," he mumbled, but of course Fiona already knew that. She moved her hand somewhat impatiently for him to go on. He struggled for a way to word what had happened with Clare without airing out things to Fiona that he knew Clare wouldn't want her knowing.

"Okay, say that Imogen had this big, no… life-altering secret that she kept from you. You know she only kept it from you because she wanted to protect you, but it still bothers you because you can't take her seeing you that way. Like you need to be protected… because you're supposed to be the one protecting her, right?"

"Eli, can you honestly say that you haven't kept something from someone because you love them?" she questioned firmly, but gently. He narrowed his eyes and stared down at his laced fingers.

"No, but, Fi, this was different. She kept it from me because she was afraid I would freak. I don't want her to see me as that guy. I'm _not_ that guy anymore. I'm better. I just need her to see that."

"So prove it to her." She said simply with a shrug of her shoulders.

Eli glanced up at her and gave her a weak smirk.

"Great plan, I hadn't thought of that." He said sarcastically. Fiona laughed and grabbed the pillow from between them and hit him in the back of the head softly.

"Don't you know me by now? I already have an idea."


End file.
